In the ensuing years, Vernon had, indeed, had to "handle" a few situations. While it was obvious to Petunia that Harry had no control over his magic, it was just as obvious to Vernon that fear could prevent it from happening again. At least Harry was smart enough to follow her advice. He didn't ask questions. One thing she'd learned very early was that Vernon hated most questions. He especially hated questions which might require him to think about an answer. He did fine with questions like "Would you like some more tea?" but questions like "What happened to my parents?" or "Why am I living here?" resulted in angry, physical answers. As much as Petunia thought Harry wanted to ask these questions, she was glad to see Harry had the sense not to.

Petunia's concern grew to fear as the boys turned 10. She remembered that it wasn't very long after turning 10 that Lily had gotten the letter informing her that she was a witch and would be spirited away to some godforsaken school to hone her talents.

But, the year seemed to be going by with minimal trouble and as Dudley's 11th birthday approached, Petunia began to think they weren't going to be asking for Harry. Perhaps what that Dumbledore person had meant was that Harry had to stay at their house for the protection to work, that even going away to school would be enough to break the spell and put Harry—and the Dursley's—in danger.

Part of Petunia dearly hoped that this was the case. The thought of Vernon reading one of those letters telling the boy he was a witch—or, what was the word for boys? Wizard?—frightened her no end. However, Petunia couldn't help but think having Harry out of the house, among people with similar abilities—people who already seemed to care about him or they wouldn't have bothered to send him here—might be good for everyone concerned. Certainly it would give Harry the chance to find some happiness on his own. He'd had precious little of it living in this house and Petunia didn't see how that was going to change any time soon.

It might also be better for the Dursleys. So much of their lives was spent discovering Harry had done something, trying to hide what Harry had done, tattling about what Harry had done, punishing Harry for what he had done, punishing Petunia for daring to try to hide what Harry had done and being punished for trying to hide what Harry had done….well, they might all benefit from a change of pace.

As Petunia began preparing for Dudley's big day, she found she had a problem. She had made a note on the calendar last year of how many presents Dudley had gotten—he always had to have at least one more with each year and if he didn't, his unhappiness would be quite painful for Petunia—but now found that someone had apparently put a glass on that page or something. She couldn't quite make out what her note said. Try as she might, she just couldn't remember (though, she did recall that it hadn't been enough, that memory stuck with her). Was that a four? A nine? Oh, dear..it could be anything really, an 8, a 6, a 3…about all she could tell was it wasn't a 1 or a 7…Had she gotten him 33 presents last year? Or 39? Or what? There was no one she could ask. Dudley would cry that she'd forgotten him, that she didn't pay enough attention to him. Vernon would decry her as stupid. She could ask Harry, but she wouldn't. She hadn't been allowed to give Harry so much as a single birthday gift his entire life and while she was quite sure he had a vivid memory of Dudley's ever more extravagant load of gifts, she didn't want to hurt him even more by reminding him of it.

Well, she'd just have to take a guess at it. 36 seemed like an excellent and suitably high number to her. If she guessed wrong, she knew Dudley would complain, but she'd just be ready with a plan for more. They were going to go to the Zoo for Dudley's birthday and she could say she wanted him to pick out his last presents at the gift shop. That should satisfy him.

Harry, of course, would not be going to the zoo. Petunia supposed it would be different if the zoo didn't charge admittance for children, then Vernon might be willing to have him, but the zoo did charge. Harry would have to stay with Mrs. Figg.

Mrs. Figg had moved into a house around the corner just about the time Harry had been left on their doorstep. She was a kindly, if batty old woman who seemed to think the world of Harry. While most of the neighbors seemed to avoid the Dursley home—offering nothing more than a quick wave as they dashed into their cars or houses—Mrs. Figg had a habit of turning up on odd days to inquire how the "smaller boy" was doing. She seemed genuinely interested in Harry's schoolwork and health. Petunia had instinctively turned to her when it came time to find Harry a sitter. Dudley, of course, would never be left with a mere "neighbor" when Vernon and Petunia had a rare night out. Vernon's sister Marge was the only person Vernon deemed fit enough to care for his boy. Marge, however, would not abide having Harry for even an hour, making it necessary for Harry to go to Mrs. Figg's even when Marge was staying in their home with Dudley.

Dudley's birthday turned out to be one near disaster after another. Petunia learned that the number written on her calendar had not been 34, it had been 38. She was 3 gifts shy. Fortunately Marge had sent a gift along and he accepted the idea of picking out a couple of things on his own.

But, then, the phone had rung with the horrible news that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg. Petunia was at a complete loss.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend -- Yvonne?" Vernon had asked.

Yvonne? Imaginary Yvonne? Petunia hadn't mentioned her in years, not since Dudley had gotten old enough to report back to his father that her "Day with Yvonne" had, in fact, been a day at the library and the park with just Petunia and the children. Only Petunia's feigned anger at being stood up and her excellent performance of one half of a phone call going from indignant to concerned as "Yvonne" was discovered to have been in a minor car accident that morning and unable to meet her, had staved off Vernon's temper.

"On vacation in Majorca" Petunia had improvised.

There was nothing to be done. Obviously, Harry was going to have to go with them, the question was: would Petunia be held accountable? It was very important that Vernon believe that she had no desire whatsoever to have Harry come along. That could be trickier than one might think. Vernon wasn't going to jump on the "Harry's coming with us" idea by himself. She could see him staring blankly, unable to come up with any ideas of his own. First, she had to make sure Vernon understood that Harry couldn't be trusted to be on his own. Harry helped out by making that very suggestion.

"You could just leave me here"

Perfect! Petunia screwed her face into its most unpleasant look.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?"

Of course, she didn't think Harry would destroy the house, but she couldn't afford to take the chance. More, she couldn't afford to be seen believing Harry capable of anything more than the worst sort of behavior.

Now, to get Harry into the car, and then, the Zoo…

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Petunia slowly, "...and leave him in the car..."

Vernon finally seemed to click into what was happening.

"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone..."

Ahh….very good! Harry was going to the Zoo. Petunia secretly hoped he'd enjoy himself, maybe get away from the other boys and have fun looking at the animals.

Sadly, that was not to be. Petunia hadn't been watching what happened in the reptile house. She wasn't a big fan of snakes and had, instead, stopped at a small display that said it contained 14 tree frogs. Petunia had only managed to find 7 when she heard sounds of a scuffle and turned to see an enormous snake slithering away from a group of boys that she recognized—with some panic—as Dudley, his friend Piers and Harry who was sitting on the floor as if he'd fallen or been pushed.

This was not going to be good. Petunia rushed forward, a quick glance at Harry showed him to be alright, so she threw herself on Dudley, hoping that an overly emotional show of maternal panic would be enough to pacify Vernon. It wasn't. That Piers boy didn't help matters by suggesting that Harry had been talking to the snake before it went off. Vernon completely lost the ability to make sentences as he sent Harry off to his cupboard to await punishment. Petunia scurried off to get Vernon a brandy without being asked. She assured him he deserved it after that scare, indeed, he deserved several. He seemed to agree. Petunia silently refilled his glass over and over knowing that, if he drank enough, he would forget that he hadn't yet inflicted any serious punishment on Harry. As his chin sunk to his chest and he let out a sloppy snore, Petunia breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't recall Vernon ever being that out of control before. She couldn't imagine what he might have done to Harry. While Harry was no doubt miserable in his cupboard, at least he wasn't bruised or broken.